Unexpected
by some kind of exquisite
Summary: ONESHOT. Teddy Lupin had never been one for public spectacles. So when he comes crashing through the screen doors of her Herbology class, Roxanne knows not to expect too much.


**ONESHOT: TEDDY L./ROXANNE W.**

It started innocently enough on a Saturday night, at the Potters' house. The entire Potter-Weasley clan had congregated, a week before all the kids were due to depart for Hogwarts. Aunt Luna was there too with her two eccentric boys, as was the ever-present Teddy Lupin. He was Uncle Harry's godson: _of course_ he'd be there.

He didn't show up until ten that night, however, and Lily was becoming visibly anxious. As hard as Roxanne tried to keep the conversation going, her redheaded cousin was a fidgety, self-conscious mess.

"You think my hair looks okay, don't you?" she asked, lifting lank strands of the shiny orange locks. It was straight and fine, cascading past her slender pale shoulders much like her mother's. In fact, Lily was a dead-ringer for her pretty mother with the exception of her vibrant green eyes.

They made an odd threesome: her, Lily, and their other cousin Rose. Nobody would have pegged all three for being first cousins, if it weren't for a few 'tells'. Like their distinctive upturned noses and the crinkled laugh lines framing their eyes. Otherwise, it was bookish Rose with her thick brown hair, so often prone to bouts of frizz, and kind eyes; and tomboy Lily, forever beating the boys in the family at Quidditch and known for an appetite which belied her petite frame. And, finally, there was Roxanne. She was neither exceedingly intelligent, nor distinctively athletic. She coasted by for the most part with 'an abysmal lack of detentions' (in her father's words). In third year, when came the unspoken time to define oneself and box everyone, Lily had insisted: "You're the pretty one, Rox, I swear! I wish I had your skin." Despite this reassurance, she remained the only one of the group not to have been asked on a single date.

When Teddy finally arrived, it at least excused Roxanne from having to make small talk that fell on deaf ears. He greeted Lily, hugging her loosely in a painfully brotherly gesture. Only Roxanne and Rose saw how Lily's face fell ever so slightly. Teddy manoeuvred his way over to Victoire, swooping a kiss down onto her shapely pink lips. She blushed, giggling girlishly as he snatched her pumpkin pasty right out of her hand and gulped it down.

"Oh, Teddy!"

"It's no big deal, Lil," Rose began when their crestfallen friend returned.

"Not sure why I bother, to be honest," Lily admitted. "He was there when I was born for God's sake. Why would anything change now? I'll always be spotty little Lily."

"Maybe it's for the best?" I suggested, earning a look of surprise from Lily and a glare from Rose. "Well, he _is_ eleven years your senior. Would Unc- your dad even allow it?"

Lily shrugged miserably. "Yeah… Whatever."

This summed up the rest of the underwhelming night for her poor friend who had become reclusive and quiet after the subtle rejection.

"Maybe you should grab us some Butterbeers?" Rose suggested to Roxanne later on. "We can go hang out in her room. It's too noisy down here anyway."

Rose was still mad about her earlier comment but, not wanting to fight, Roxanne did as she was told.

There were two Butterbeers left so, figuring she could just give them to her friends in a silent apology, Roxanne made to grab them. A larger, infinitely more masculine hand closed over her own then and Roxanne's eyes snapped up to see Teddy.

"I saw them first," she blurted out without thinking. Teddy smirked and the finely sculpted planes of his face rose and fell with the motion.

"Did you now?" he asked, clearly in rhetoric.

"Yes," she said with more conviction. She could feel herself withering under that cool blue gaze.

He was looking less wild than usual tonight. No turquoise hair, no piercing, and even his tattoos had been magically concealed. Roxanne could only guess he was trying to appeal to Uncle Bill.

"Well, that's too bad…" he murmured, managing to make the soft uttering sound thoroughly sexual. Roxanne shivered.

"Yes, it is. I'll be taking them now-"

"Look," he began. "I really need to get Vic her drink. Can I maybe make it up to you another time?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'll buy you a drink another time," he said slowly, eyes solid and unwavering. There was something delightful and intimidating about being on the receiving end of such focus.

She should have said the drink was for Lily, _should _have promised to make him take Lily out. But she didn't.

And it would be her downfall.

**TR**

It started with letters, and then little notes passed through her brother. And soon a pattern emerged. He would start with compliments, inappropriate disclosures; he would reveal the darkest things he'd ever thought and she'd ask why he was telling her these things. And his answer to most of her questions – her most logical, reasonably questions – would always be the same. _I like you, Roxanne._

And she was stupid to let it go on. So, so stupid. But a small part of her she would never admit to actually _liked_ it. She liked that someone would notice her over Lily, and Rose, and – perhaps most spectacularly – Victoire. So she let it go on, and he brought up the inevitable.

_I do believe I owe you a drink._

**TR**

It happened at The Leaky Cauldron not three days later. After hours of painstaking deliberation, Roxanne found herself at the Cauldron, _drowning _in guilt.

And he was there. Well, of course he was. He was there and he had blue hair and three earrings eclipsing his left ear and a ratty old leather jacket. And he smelled like cigarettes and a heady aftershave, and he smiled at her. A perfect half-moon grin upon seeing her, revealing rows of even white teeth.

"What's your tattoo of?" she had asked.

"A phoenix." That was all he would say and then he studied her with narrowed eyes, evaluating and calculating, ready to weigh her response.

"Cool." It was short, it was simple and – to her ears – utterly empty.

"Victoire hates it. She says tattoos are for delinquents."

"I like your piercings too," she ventured bravely. Even braver, she reached out and softly traced the thin curve of his ear.

Then Firewhisky poured, and the compliments poured, and he told her – right there on a stool in a bar she was too young to be in – just how he saw the night ending.

And he got his way – because he was Teddy Remus Lupin, and who could deny him? – and Roxanne awoke the next day the same way she fell asleep.

_Drowning _in guilt.

**TR**

She was meant to be a fifth year in less than two days' time and Roxanne felt hollow, and stupid and shallow. Because there he was, on Platform 9 and ¾ seeing the same girl off as he had for the last few years and completely ignoring her. Her legs hurt, her pride hurt and her heart hurt. Lily was oblivious but the catty look Victoire threw her as she boarded the crimson train sent an icy shock through her system.

"Rox, are you okay?"

She didn't answer. She was afraid if she tried, tears would spill and – even worse – words would spill, and secrets. Why would he tell her any of his deepest, darkest thoughts, and feelings unless it was all complete and utter bullshit? He had, after all, told her about being ashamed of his father's lycanthrope nature even though it wasn't his fault and he really, really shouldn't blame him. And that he was sick of people pitying him because of just how much he'd lost in the war, and forever being 'that boy on the cover of _Hourglass_ magazine' – the symbol of loss, of victory.

Why, why, why? Roxanne fell asleep to these questions ringing in her head, as the train pulled away from where she'd lost her innocence, her very childhood, and from the boy who'd taken it.

**TR**

The smear campaign started quickly enough. Victoire hid behind the faux kindness in her bluest of blue eyes and the deceptive pretty of her silvery hair. But suddenly she's a 'whore' and other unspeakable names, and nobody knows why except that Queen Victoire has decreed it. Roxanne doesn't know how she knows or what to do about it. She can't tell Rose, and she definitely can't tell Lily. So she decides it's time to divulge some secrets of her own.

So she writes, and her heartbreak carves clinical sentences into the beige parchment. She seals it with a kiss and lets a tear run down its length before sending it off with Eros. Teddy doesn't reply; he doesn't offer a shoulder or kind words as she had. And she's about to give up, except-

Except Victoire's suddenly miserable and her hate-filled glares are shot from red-rimmed eyes. She's broken and the school knows it, and Roxanne knows it.

But when Teddy comes crashing through the screen doors of her Herbology class, Roxanne doesn't dare let herself hope or expect too much. Teddy doesn't do public spectacles; he doesn't draw attention to himself if he can help it.

"Young man, are you even a student?"

Professor Longbottom's words fall on deaf ears as Teddy's eyes lock onto their target.

"Roxanne."

His hair is pulsing a deep coal black and his eyes are a stormy grey as he pleads: "Please, just… _let me explain_."

**TR**


End file.
